


My Sweet Summer

by Emono



Series: Grass Knuckles AU [2]
Category: Band of Brothers, The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Fluff and Mush, Grass Knuckles AU, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Summer nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 11:59:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11759400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: Eugene hears from his good friend George Luz about a charity farm he wants to do a story about. Feeling restless in Mobile, Eugene travels to Currahee to investigate the town and see if there's a story worth pursuing. There he finds people he'd never think he'd meet. A bright and bubbly ranch owner, his gruff business partner, a charming server, a modern (but happily married, damn it) witch, and a Lousiana boy who seems to have an eye for him.Eugene lets himself enjoy the adventure and succumb to the sweet spell of Currahee.





	My Sweet Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the prologue for the story, I hope you enjoy it. Thank you all for the wonderful feedback for the first installment and maybe this one follows up just as strongly

**Get familiar with the AU[here on my blog](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/tagged/grass-knuckles-au)**

 

* * *

 

 

Eugene loved June though he felt as if he was melting beneath the rays of fresh summer. The world hummed with possibility while the heat made it all too easy to laze about. Spring seemed to kiss summer goodbye and left in it’s wake a perfume of unfurled flowers and fresh dew. Dreams seemed to seep over into the waking world leaving people wandering dazed in the first months of long sunshine. Eugene felt unworldly in loose shirts and bare feet, the day hazed over in rose gold from the lenses of his sunglasses. His was sticky from mouth to fingertips from endless glasses of sweet tea and jarred honey.

 

Eugene was unafraid but he was bored in a way nothing seemed to satisfy. Summer stretched out long in front of him and he had no idea what he wanted to do next. He spent his time outside listening to the wind in the trees, sketching the birds, picking wildflowers and sprawling in the grass. He’d have to go back to school in the fall but that felt like eons from June and wasn’t any fun to fantasize about. It would be the same lame routine all over again but only away at university instead of at home with his fussing parents.

 

The only thing that kept him sane was his correspondences.

 

Eugene exchanged a lot of letters with his friends from school and the people he’d met at various events he’d attended with his family across the country. One man in particular he’d met in the bars of New York and talked to at least once a week. George Luz, an up-and-coming reporter with a charisma only matched by his intellect and wit.

 

On this particular afternoon Eugene received a letter from that same captivating, treasured friend. He brought his sweet tea to the padded wicker chair on the front porch. The sun kept disappearing behind wisps of cloud and the yard was streaked in brief shadows. His mother’s wind chimes sung happily in the breeze and Deacon yipped happily as he playfully chased the squirrels around the birch trees. Once he had his feet kicked up and his shades folded into his shirt, he unfolded the letter and read.

 

It was the usual pleasantries and silly stories until a mission was mentioned, a quest of sorts. There was a sleepy little city called Currahee in Georgia where someone was running a charity farm. George didn’t know much about it or where it was related to the town but he mused about how it would be a good story.

 

_‘Have your folks heard anything about it? It seems like something they’d love to get their hands on considering how much Sledges love to look charitable.’_

 

Eugene tipped his head back, sunlight speckling his cheeks from where it trickled through the slats of the porch roof. _Georgia, huh?_ A charity farm that helped animals and was nestled in the heart of country songs. It sounded almost romantic. He sighed through his nose and closed his eyes as he daydreamed of farmhands and true blue skies.

 

Maybe he needed an adventure.

 

o0o0o0o

 

It only took a night of restless sleep for Eugene to call George up.

 

“I’m going to find this farm,” Eugene declared in his parents hallway, listening to the sounds of his mother chatter on to one of their housekeepers about the new curtains she’d had shipped to the house.

 

“ _What? Really?_ ” George marveled over the line.

 

“I’ve got nothing else going on,” Eugene admitted. “It sounds like fun. I can go scope it out for you and phone you up if it’s anything worth pursuing.”

  
“ _You’re not going to try and snipe my story, are you_?” George teased.

 

“No, I swear,” Eugene promised with a chuckle. He longed to see George’s wide grin in person and hoped this would warrant a visit. “If there’s anything worth writing about, it’s all yours.”

 

“ _You’re actually doing me a favor here, Gene. I can’t get away anytime soon and I wanted to surprise my boss with this. I owe you, buddy._ ”

 

He twisted the cord around his fingers and felt sweat trickle between his shoulder blades. “I need some kind adventure, anyways. Mobile is painfully boring. At the very least it’ll be interesting.”

 

“ _Well I don’t want you wasting your valuable time. A Sledge’s time would be much more important._ ”

 

“Fuck you, Luz,” Eugene scoffed.

 

Something shattered in the sitting room and he heard his mother gasp. “Eugene!”

 

Eugene winced and nearly dropped the phone. “I gotta’ go.”

 

George was cackling. “ _Your mom heard you curse!_ ”

 

o0o0o0o

The train ride was nice. Eugene dozed most of the way and watched the scenery go by. He packed a bag for a week and a few books but they couldn’t hold his attention. Instead he daydreamed of what Currahee would look like. He didn’t expect to see a town out out of a postcard. It was cute, kitschy in a country way. The houses he spotted were quaint ranch style ones and the town itself felt very “good old fashioned American” in the way the shops lined up in adjourning buildings. Clean streets, tall lamp posts dotting the street along with trees flush with rich green, and hardly a car anywhere.

 

It was early noon and Eugene was ravenous. Currahee was sort of small compared to Mobile but he found a diner easily enough.

 

The place was like a polaroid. The sunlight hit the windows just right to give the red and brown decor a golden sheen. A bell chimed as he entered but the few people inside didn’t even glance in his direction. Eugene sat himself and plucked a laminated menu out of the holder, smiling at the home-style fare. There was a clean coffee mug face down on a small plate and he flipped it over.

 

The small clink of ceramic seemed to be the lunch bell. A server came on quick feet from the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron and putting on a smile. It was a young man with kind, dark eyes smudged with exhaustion and wild hair.

 

“You look tired,” Eugene said before he could check his rudeness. “Are you sure you don’t need this coffee more than me?”

 

The boy chuckled and it sounded like wind chimes. “No, mister. College is just a little harder than I thought.”

 

“College?” Eugene sat up a little straighter at that. “Where’s the nearest university?”

 

“About an hour away,” the server replied as he took out his notepad. It’s minimalist nametag read _Jacky_. “It’s just a general store, a graveyard, and the school. Not much to it. Thankfully they offer online classes and I don’t have to make the commute often. Still, late nights and all that.” That light little laugh came again. “Enough about me, mister. What can I get for you?”

 

Eugene looked around the diner again and noted it was kind of abandoned. It was a little early for lunch but late for breakfast. “Actually, do you have a minute to sit with me?”

 

“Well I won’t say no to getting off my feet,” Jacky decided, sitting down on the other side and laying down his note pad. “But I gotta’ tell you, I’m not looking to get romantic with anyone until after college. My mom says education is most important.”

 

The sweet, earnest tone made Eugene laugh and he got the boy to blush. “Well you figured out my devious plan. Whatever am I going to do now?”

 

Jacky put the back of his hand to his mouth to hide his smile.

 

“Is Jacky your real name?”

 

“My name’s Eugene but there’s already enough Eugenes in town. My last name’s Jackson and it’s stuck since I was a kid.”

  
“That’s cute. I’m Eugene Sledge,” Eugene introduced properly, holding out his hand.

 

“Another Eugene!” Jacky beamed, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. What brings you here? Passing through?”

 

“A bit of an adventure actually. I’m from Alabama by ways of Mobile. I’m looking for some kind of charity farm?” Eugene explained poorly. “I don’t have a lot of details but this place seems small enough that maybe someone knows what direction to point me in.”

 

“Grass Knuckles,” Jacky snorted in amusement.

 

Eugene frowned a little at that. “I’m sorry?”

 

Jacky flushed again. “Sorry! It’s just - uh, well...the locals tease Shifty and Mr. Toye about it. The place is called ‘Greener Pastures’. It’s a couple miles up the road. If you go up north you’ll run into it. If you go west of here you’ll find most of the houses scattered about. Almost no one lives _in_ town. Everyone’s clustered around the cul de sacs out there and further.”

 

“What about east? Anything out there?” Eugene inquired, making a note of the name in his own small notebook he’d brought to give to Luz by the end of the trip. “I saw there’s no paved roads that way.”

 

“Mr. Winters is the great grandson of the town founder. Him and Mr. Nixon own a farm out that way too,” Jacky stated. “It’s a lot of livestock and they do a lot of carpentry work for the town. Most men looking for work head out that way. He always needs some strong hands and he likes to teach them everything he can. Mr. Winters supplies a lot of meat to the cities and does pretty good.”

 

Eugene made a note of that. “And this Mr. Nixon?”

 

“Well, he comes from a big family in New Jersey. He funds a lot of the farms around here and cuts a good price at it.” Jacky look to the other tables but it didn’t seem anyone needed him. “He’ll help anyone in town who’s down on their luck.”

 

“Nixon...that sounds so familiar,” Eugene mused. “But wow, that’s so great. So does he run a farm too?”

 

Jacky shook his head. “He helps Mr. Winters run their farm as much as he can but he’s not really a farmhand type.”

 

That word struck an interest. “Oh? ‘Theirs?’ ”

 

There was a hint of teeth as Jacky let a flash of a scowl twist his lips. “Yes, sir. Don’t husbands live together and share property in Mobile?”

 

Eugene felt a little back handed at that. There was a challenge in Jacky’s eyes, almost daring him to say something homophobic. He smiled and it Jacky seemed to approve of whatever he saw on his face, smiling back.  

 

o0o

 

“Can you take this to Chuck’s shop? It’s right over there. Sometimes he gets so wrapped up he forgets to eat.”

 

A store named _Fait Maison_ was just down the street. Eugene was struck by the very French look of it. Blunt green paint, double glass doors with wooden frames, all built into old stone. It was gorgeous and stepping inside felt like stepping into another time across the ocean. It was swathed in gorgeous earthy tones, honey and gold and rich brown with hardwood floors. The whole places was lined with shelves. There was a half wall of pure books with uneven shelves to match the strangely shaped volumes. There were handmade candles and some jewelry, assorted stones in small bins, soaps and bowls, a selection of knives, crystals, rugs, and so many out of place things like pewter cookware and corn husks. What dominated the store were two walls of jars and bottles and sealed containers, all labeled with neat handwriting. On the far wall seemed to be tonics, poultices, mixes of things he’d never heard of. There was a counter and behind that laid the rest, sort of cut off from where a customer could reach. It looked medicinal - herbs and spices, stalks and sprigs and leaves, all raw material.

 

Eugene gawked at the displays and blindly walked through the shop. He barely heard the sound of the bell above the door or the rustle from behind the door next to the counter. There was a mortar and pestle set up on a woven cloth by the register and a small glass jar there was half full. The door swung open and a man came out wiping his hands on an apron.

 

Eugene was a bit taken back at how handsome he was. A wide mouth and brilliant green eyes, high cheekbones and a cut jaw with mussed blond hair. He smiled and Eugene found himself a little breathless.

 

“Hello.” The man’s brow pinched up a little but his smile stayed. “I know every face in town but I’ve never seen yours before. I’m Charles Grant-Speirs. Everyone calls me Chuck. Pleasure to meet you.”

 

Eugene took the offered hand across the counter and shook it, a little disappointed but unsurprised at the wedding ring on his finger. “Eugene Sledge. I just arrived in town this morning.”

 

“Welcome,” Chuck greeted, walking down the counter a bit to get back to the mortar. He started sorting through the small baggies he had there, shifting them into a semblance of order. “I’m sorry, I was in the back taking some new inventory.” He poured a few pinches of different bags into the bowl and started to grind in smooth, practiced motions. “How can I help you? Is there anything particular you’re looking for, Mr. Sledge?”

 

“What kind of shop is this?” Eugene marveled.

 

“It’s an alternative medicine apothecary,” Chuck rattled off like he’d said the phrase a hundred times before. “Some people get sick of going to the doctor for little things. I make everything from headache teas to burn creams. It’s a hobby of mine.”

 

“Some hobby,” Eugene observed, looking over the wall of different herbs and powders. “It’s an impressive stock here. But what’s with the, uh…”

 

Chuck waited patiently, grinding away.

 

“The crystals?” Eugene asked hesitantly.

 

“I said ‘alternative’, didn’t I?” Chuck replied smoothly.

 

Eugene felt his ears burning in shame. “Right, right, of course! I just didn’t expect something like this in such a small town, I suppose.”

 

Chuck grinned at his embarrassment. “It’s a mix of old fashioned medicine, natural remedies, and a touch of the occult, if that’s what you’re getting at. I know it’s a bit odd but what can I say? It’s in my blood. My family have been practicing for generations, on and off. I had a great-great aunt who was burned alive, you know.”

 

Eugene went pale and Chuck cackled.

 

“I’m only teasing,” Chuck assured him, adding a sprinkle of what smelled like cinnamon to the mix. “They didn’t burn witches in France.”

 

A laugh startled out of Eugene and he quickly covered his mouth despite how Chuck laughed with him. He sputtered out a sort of an apology but Chuck waved him off, going back to his herbs.

 

“It’s alright, Mr. Sledge. Honestly. It’s rare I get to tease.”

 

“I-I brought you this,” Eugene fumbled, handing over the paper bag with the lunch Jacky had prepared inside it. “Jacky from the diner said you probably hadn’t eaten. He put a bit of everything in there for you.”

 

“Oh!” Chuck took the bag and peered inside. He inhaled the smell of eggs and bacon and biscuits. “It’s perfect. Jacky is so good to me. Thank you, Mr. Sledge.”

 

“Eugene, please,” Eugene pressed, nodding toward the mortar. “What are you working on there?”

 

“A tea for my husband,” Chuck hummed affectionately, shaking out the powder into a stone cup. He took a few chunks out of a baggie labeled ‘kava root’ and started to grind it up. “He doesn’t sleep well and he fell off the roof trying to fix the tiles the other day. Idiot. But what can you do? This will help him sleep and get rid of the back pain.”

 

Eugene stood up on his toes to look over the counter to try and see all the labels on the bags. “Oh really? What’s in it?”

 

“Kava, magnolia bark, cinnamon, sulfur, valerian, dried poppy.” His nose crinkled cutely. “A touch of love.”  
  
  
  
“That’s romantic.”

 

“That’s how I won him,” Chuck preened. “A few cups of this and he’ll be back on his feet. Well, this, and a couple Advil.”

 

Eugene felt his heart stutter at the man’s cheeky laugh. It really was a shame he was married. He jumped with a yelp as a gunshot went off but Chuck seemed nonplussed.

 

“Sorry, that’s my ringtone. I’ll just be a second,” Chuck apologized, fishing out his phone and putting it to his ear. “Hey, Ron. How has your morning been? Have you eaten?”

 

o0o

 

Eugene made his way to the farm via a cab that Chuck called for him. The road turned to dirt quickly and it wound in the dips and rises of the land. The woman was nice enough and get him there in good time. He tipped generously and stepped out onto the most beautiful farm he’d ever seen. It was sprawling and stalwart, well taken care of, and there were lots of grassy fields, as the name implied. There were loads of horses behind the fence and there seemed to be at least two fields for them. There wasn’t just one farm but several. There was a wheat field far behind the buildings and big, open sky. There was a wide array of vegetables being grown in several different spots and that was just what he could see. Chicken coops, some healthy sheep, a couple goats - there seemed to be a little bit of everything.

  
There was a bunkhouse and a main house and he headed toward there, hoping to find the owner. Eugene felt someone watching him but there were farm hands milling so he thought nothing of it. He wondered if the pretty, sharp eyed blond in one of the vegetable gardens was glaring at him when his back was turned but the man seemed busy. His fingers were long and delicate as he picked the bounty and laid them in the wicker basket cradled in his arm. Some of the hands were hauling hay bales off trucks, some working with the horses, Eugene could feel a tingle low between his thighs as he watched the farm hands move around in the Georgia sun, muscles bunching under glistening skin.

 

Suddenly Eugene was very much in love with this whole world.

  
  
The door to the main house opened and the screen door squeaked as a man emerged. He had a full laundry basket on his hip and was humming to himself as he came out onto the porch, boots clacking on the steps but slowing down as he caught sight of Eugene. The man was tall and lean with windswept hair and full lips that gave to a blinding smile.

 

“Good afternoon, mister,” the man greeted early. “Is there something I can do for you?”

 

“I came a long way to figure out what you fellas’ are up to out here,” Eugene blurted without thinking.

 

The man took one more step, frowning. “Getting up to?”

 

“I’m sorry! I’m being rude. Where’s my manners? I, uh, just didn’t expect a place like this.” He rushed up to offer his hand. “Hello, my name is Eugene Sledge.”

 

“Darrell Powers.” The man’s accent was enchanting and Eugene happily shook it, hoping to repair his rude tongue. “Most folks call me Shifty.”

 

“I’m from Mobile.”

 

Shifty whistled and shifted the basket on his hip. “Mobile? That’s a bit away for some sightseeing, Mr. Sledge.”

 

“Well, you see, I have a friend in New York who writes for the paper,” Eugene explained. “He caught wind of a charity farm out here and I came to feel things out for him. I was craving a change of scenery and it sounded interesting enough to take a look.”

 

“My word,” Shifty breathed, flushing in pleasure as his smile grew. “Someone wanting to write a story about our place? Well I’ll tell you this, Mr. Sledge, if being in the paper means helping even one animal out there, then I will be more than happy to tell you whatever you need to know.”

 

“That’s wonderful! I’d be so grateful,” Eugene gushed, pleased. “And it’s ‘Eugene’, please.”

 

Shifty startled and nearly dropped his laundry. “ _My_ manners! Please, Eugene, come in! I’ve got a fresh pitcher of tea.”

 

“Don’t put up a fuss,” Eugene begged. “I’m intruding without warning. And you’re in the middle of laundry and I’m sure a whole bunch of other chores. Please, let me help.”

 

“Nonsense!” Shifty dismissed, moving the basket out of his reach and snagging him by the elbow. “You’re a guest. You’ve traveled a long way, Eugene. You must be famished.”

 

“I actually stopped by the diner in town-”

 

“They do great cooking there but you can’t get my mama’s cornbread recipe anywhere in the world except my kitchen and hers,” Shifty insisted, tugging him up the steps. “If the boys haven’t been rooting around in the kitchen, I’ve got some of that and some cookies I made this morning. You’ll love it!”

 

“Well, I-”  
  
  
  
“Come on, now. I won’t hear a word of it until you’ve cleared a plate. You sweet thing, you’re skin and bones.” Shifty’s eyes were sparkling as he threw a smile over his shoulder. “I hope you stay a long spell with us, Eugene. I’ll send you back to Mobile fat on good homecooking.”  

 

o0o0o0o

 

The talk went so well that Eugene couldn’t stop himself from asking to use the phone. Shifty gave him some privacy and went out to sort the laundry. The amount of trust he gave was staggering and Eugene decided then and there that he would never abuse it.  

 

“George, you _have_ to get down here!” Eugene burst. “This place is amazing. They’re doing God’s work. Catch the next train if you can, _please_. You must!”

 

“ _Damn! Alright, buddy, okay. Can you tell me a little more than it’s great?_ ”

 

“Absolutely not. You get your ass down here and look for yourself. I promise you it’s worth it. I gotta’ go.”

 

Eugene hung up on Luz and phoned his mother with an idea blossoming. “Mother? It’s Gene. Yes, yes, I’m fine. I made it alright. Everything is okay. I just wanted to know if you could wire me some money and give me cousin Grady’s number?”

 

o0o0o0o

 

Eugene politely declined Shifty’s invite to stay the night and got a cab to come get him. He didn’t want to spoil the surprise and he was absolutely giddy with the thought of being able to help. He found the local inn on his own and daydreamed about exploring the town more thoroughly. The man at the counter had his feet kicked up on it, reclined back far in his chair, smoking and reading a trashy magazine.

 

“Fifty bucks a night,” the man grunted as Eugene came up to the counter. “No hookers. No drinking on the premises. We got bars for that. No drugs either.”

 

“No problem,” Eugene assured him. “Just a night for now.”

 

“Awesome,” the man grunted, reaching behind him and snagging a numbered key off one of the hooks. He tossed it on the table and puffed on his smoke. “Name’s Runner. I’ll be down here if you need something.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Runner.”

 

“Runner’s fine,” the man lowered the mag and finally looked at him. He coughed in surprise and plucked out his cigarette to cackle. “Jesus, kid. You old enough to rent a room? Should I card you? Shit, you’re not a run away are you?”

 

Eugene chuckled behind his hand. “I promise I’m of age.”

 

“Your ma know where you are?”

 

His cheeks went pink and he mumbled an answer.

 

“I couldn’t hear you, kid.”

 

“Yes! Yes, my mother knows where I’m at,” Eugene admitted, blushing as he shelled out some bills. “Thank you for the room.”

 

o0o0o0o

 

There was a clothing shop in town that Eugene found on a walk. A woman named Ruth Muck ran it, her family owned it. She was charming and bright as she showed him the huge assortment of knickknacks and accessories, the pretty displays of clothes.

 

“I was hoping to find something to send to my sister. I’m staying through her birthday.”

 

“I have the perfect thing. Every Southern woman should have one.”

 

And that’s how Eugene walked out with a suggestive, black lace hand fan. His sister was going to kill him and his only regret was that he wouldn’t be able to see his mother’s face when she opened it in front of her.

 

o0o0o0o

 

Eugene met the truck hauling the trailer at the edge of town and directed it from there. He followed the directions Jacky gave him back to Greener Pastures and with only one mishap with a couple stray goats he managed to get them to the farm. They attracted quite a bit of attention and Eugene assured the spooked driver that he would take care of everything.

 

“Shifty!” Eugene called, waving to the man as he stepped out of the truck. “I’ve brought a surprise for you.”

 

Shifty caught site of the horses through the slates and light up from the inside out. “My goodness!” He ran up to the trailer and climbed up on the wheel to peer inside. He started cooing and carefully reached a hand in to gentle the snuffling horses. “They are _stunning_. Oh, Eugene, where did you find them?”

 

“It just so happens my cousin recently decided to pull out of the racing business. He wrote to my mother and mentioned he didn’t didn’t know what to do with his horses,” Eugene explained, feeling fluttery with excitement. “He’d never done an honest day’s work in his life. No Sledge has for generations if I’m honest with you, Shifty. We’re no ranchers, just businessmen and scholars and doctors honestly.” He cleared his throat as he realized he’d started to ramble but Shifty was so wrapped up in petting the horses he didn’t seem to mind. “I see what you’re doing here and I would rest easy knowing they’re in your good hands.”

 

“They’re gorgeous, absolutely perfect,” Shifty crooned. He seemed to put all four horses at ease with his sure, careful touch.  

 

“I know it’s a lot to take in but I’d greatly appreciate it.”

 

“Of course we will!” Shifty sounded almost offended that he would do anything but. “Especially if they have nowhere else to go. We’ll find them a wonderful home. Or maybe they can all stay right here?”

 

Shifty looked ready to rubs his face on the horses through the slats and it filled Eugene with such relief. He’d made the plan in haste and once it was too late he’d wondered if he’d made a mistake. Seeing Shifty’s bright smile and eager wiggling filled him with a new assurance. He pulled an envelope out of his back pocket and stepped up to hand it to him. “And here.”

 

Shifty peered curiously at it and hopped off the tire to properly take it. He opened it up and his jaw dropped at all the cash inside. “Eugene, I can’t possibly. This is too much.”

 

“No, I insist, please,” Eugene pressed. “I sprung these horses on you and I don’t want to strain your resources. I want you to have it to help them.”

 

“Stop trying to turn down money.”

  
Eugene jumped at the new voice. It was like fresh tires over gravel and it matched the man it came from. He was thick with muscle and had a jaw carved of stone with deep set, almost soulful eyes. His strut was full of easy confidence. He seemed comfortable with fresh dirt and sweat on his skin, the brim of his hat threadbare, and his gloves seemingly worn down. The man went right for the horses and took a step up on the trailer to reach inside. A smile split his face and it was just as handsome as Eugene had ever seen. “Damn beauties right here.”

 

“This is Joe Toye,” Shifty introduced. “He’s my full partner in all this.”

 

“Oh! Are you married?”

 

Joe laughed at Eugene’s surprise. “Unlike a lot of partners in this town, we’re all business. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Sledge. Shift told me all about you. Sorry I wasn’t here when you were. I was out getting supplies.”

 

“I forgot to tell him about you,” Shifty told Joe, looking sheepish. “I guess I got all excited about being in the paper that I couldn’t stop talking about our rescues.”

 

Joe dismissed him with a fond huff, stepping off the tire and circling around back to get to the doors.

 

Shifty turned to Eugene and that bright smile felt like sunshine. “Why don’t you come have lunch with us while the boys get the horses settled in?”

 

“I don’t want to impose-”

 

“Nonsense! We’ve got plenty in the main house.”

 

The two story farmhouse was sizeable, surely enough to house both partners and a fully stocked kitchen. It looked somehow even more inviting than the first time he’d been invited in. “If you’re sure…”

 

“I am.”

 

“You pretty boys go eat, we’ll get them settled in,” Joe declared, hopping down and whistling sharply toward the group of hands watching from the fence. “Snaf, Malark, Skip, Penk - get your fucking asses over here! And where the _fuck_ is Hoose at?”

 

“He ran to town!” Malark called back as he jumped down off the fence.

 

“Bull- _fucking_ -shit he did! Wake his ass up and tell him to get the feed ready, for Christ’s sake.”

 

“Honestly, they’re good boys,” Shifty promised Eugene with one of those sweet smiles.

 

“They’re assholes,” Joe scoffed, waving them over. “Move your ass. _Yes_ , I’m talking to you, Snafu!”

 

Eugene hid his smile at their easy banter and turned toward Shifty. “Lunch sounds wonderful, if I’m not imposing.”

  
  
“You’re not at all! We’re happy to have you,” Shifty assured him, waving him toward the house. “I’ll get it all ready.”

 

Eugene gestured that he’d follow in a moment and circled around the trailer to find Joe. “Mr. Toye? Thank you for taking them on. I hope the money does some good and there’s a home out there for them.”

 

“I just hate to think what would’ve happened to them otherwise,” Joe tisked, taking his offered hand and shaking it. “Thanks for bringing them.”

 

“No problem at all, Mr. Toye.”

 

“Kid? Call me Joe.”

 

Eugene nodded and headed back around the trailer. He passed by two of the hands and tried to step out of their way but one shoulder checked him so hard he knocked into the siding. He glared over his shoulder at the mop of dark curls and lithe figure but didn’t catch a face.

 

“Asshole,” he muttered, straightening his jacket before heading to the main house.

 

o0o0o0o

 

Eugene said his goodbyes with a full stomach and once again turned down a room at the ranch. He promised Shifty he’d come back to see the horses and that he’d be staying in town for a little while. It took some convincing but he didn’t want to make himself a burden when he planned on staying in Currahee for a while.

 

Joe offered Eugene a ride back into town as soon as he was done bedding down the horses so he went out to wait for him. The sun had grown stronger and it seemed the breeze had dried up. Eugene patted his jacket and startled when he realized the gift he’d bought for his sister was missing. He whipped around and started looking all over the grass for black lace in fear he’d dropped it. He shuffled through the memories of lunch in case he’d laid it down but he hadn’t touched it.

 

Then he saw the one Joe had called ‘Snafu’ laying out on a truck bed fanning himself with the familiar sprawl of black lace. The same man who had run into him earlier.

 

“Hey!” Eugene bellowed, storming over. The man didn’t so much as open his eyes as his hand moved in a lazy sway. “You! Thief! That’s mine.”

 

“Aye?” the man drawled.

 

“Yes,” Eugene snapped, hands going to his hips. “You lifted it off me, didn’t you? That’s a damn sneaky thing to do to a guest.”

 

“The way Shifty talks, you’re practically family.” A ghost of a smile curved those full lips. “He’s ready to put a bow on you and build you a little house out in the yard.”

 

“My fan, if you please,” Eugene demanded, holding out his hand.

 

“You can have it back, for a price,” Snafu conceded.

 

“And what would that be?”

 

“Lunch.”

 

Eugene’s brow pinched up. “Uh, lunch?”

 

“With me,” Snafu clarified, mouth splitting in a wide grin.

 

When the man opened his eyes, Eugene realized just how good looking he was and blushed. He was being _flirted_ with. In a round-about, strange way but still. Snafu had dark, rich curls and green-grey eyes that were unlike anything he’d ever seen. The sheer intensity of them felt like a burn that went all the way down to his core. That grin was unsettling but in a pleasant way. He was unlike any man he’d ever seen in Mobile, though those home-grown good ol’ boys back home weren’t exactly tempting. Even with Snafu covered in dirt and sweat clad in nothing but a ratty wife beater and ripped jeans, he was still the best looking man to ever try to put moves on him.

 

Though those moves had something to be desired.

  
“Come on, pretty boy,” the farmhand tempted, sitting up on his elbows and waggling his eyebrows. “One meal with old Snafu. I don’t bite. ‘Less you ask nicely.”

 

Eugene could feel a blush burn from the end of his nose to the tips of his ear. It was a pretty brazen statement and it got him a little hot in the collar. He didn’t want him to know it but his fair skin gave it away and he could see it in the way Snafu smirked. The fan kept it’s delicate movement and Eugene decided maybe it wasn’t the worse thing to share a meal with a roughneck.

 

Eugene gave in to the staring contest and huffed. “Fine. One meal.”

 

“Excellent,” Snafu purred, swinging up so quickly Eugene stumbled back. Snafu tossed his legs over the side of the truck and bare feet kicked in the air, the fan held out like a peace offering. “Might wanna’ skip on outta here, city boy. If you’re not careful you could get dirt under your nails.”

Eugene felt a flush of indignation and stepped forward in a silent challenge. Snafu spread his knees and he stepped between them, daring him to protest, but it never came. Warmth poured off the farm hand and to Eugene it felt like pure Alabama sunlight yet everything about Snafu felt new, fresh.

  
Just what he’d been looking for on this adventure.

 

Eugene took the fan and slipped it back into his pocket. “How’s tomorrow?”

 

That grin grew, white teeth flashing against dark skin. “I’m free.”

 

“I’ll meet you at noon at the diner Jacky works at.”

 

“I’ll see you there.”

 

o0o0o0o

 

Lunch was...shockingly pleasant. Even more so. Eugene found himself smiling so hard his cheeks ached and he kept draining his glass to soothe his overused voice. Snafu had shown up with uncombed curls but washed sparkling clean in a white button up and khaki shorts. His sandals were worn to the bone and Eugene had suspected they were more a formality than anything.

 

It had started off slow, an awkward small talk of their lives and his reason for visiting. But Jacky had spaced their food out long enough and slipped enough hints on his passing-bys to ease things along. They started talking about Louisiana, Eugene’s home, how wrong they felt in the places they’d grown up in, nature and the sense of peace they felt in it.

 

“How did you get here, Mr. Shelton?” Eugene asked, resting his cheek on his fist and he ate his fill of the elegant way Snafu lit up a smoke. “A swamp boy ending up as a farmhand? I can’t imagine.”

 

“I wasn’t always in the swamp. Fishing and skinning only make so much money and I came from a big family. Lots of older brothers to compete with. They’d wollop me good and take my game if I got too lucky,” Snafu admitted, smoke pouring from his nose. “I had to head into the city to find work. Man’s gotta eat. Eventually it wasn’t enough. I hated all that damn noise and the stink of the place. Sure the food was good but at what cost? My fucking soul?”

 

Snafu scoffed and Eugene mirrored the sentiment.

 

“Saved up as much as I could, bought a car, and drove it ‘til the tires were bald and the engine gave,” Snafu explained, tapping out ash in the little plastic ashtray on the table. “It landed me a handful of miles from Currahee. Then I walked. Ran across a couple hands necking like teenagers out in a field and they brought me here.”

 

That made him perk up. “Really? Which farmhands?”

 

“You’d never believe me.”

  
“Try me.”

 

“Mal and Skip.” Snafu popped out his smoke with a cattish grin. “And Penk.”

 

Eugene’s jaw dropped. “ _No_.”

 

“Everyone knows those three are sweet on each other,” Snafu snickered. “Watch ‘em for five minutes together and you’d see it.”

 

“Good for them.” Eugene ate one of his fries, casting his gaze out the window. He saw Chuck Grant pass by and waved, getting one in return. The serious faced man he was with looked confused but Chuck simply pulled him along.

 

“You met Chuck?” Snafu asked curiously, watching the exchange.

 

Eugene nodded, watching him go. “I was at his shop. He’s a nice guy.”

 

“Everyone in town is at least a little bit in love with Chuck,” Snafu teased, stealing a fry off the other’s plate. “It drives his husband crazy.”

 

“I bet.”

 

Dessert became coffee became another round of dessert. Jacky kept their drinks filled with a knowing smile and politely let them be even as it started to bleed into early dinner. Snafu nodded and said hello to a few people as they passed to get their own seats. Eugene couldn’t help pinking up when he saw Skip and Penkala walk by though that could’ve been from the wolf whistles they shot their way.

 

“You got a sweetheart back in Mobile?” Snafu finally asked. “Anyone I gotta’ fight for your hand?”

 

“There’s no one back there, trust me,” Eugene snorted with no small amount of bitterness. It seemed that since he’d reached and started to creep past the ‘proper’ marrying age he’d been ignored by his peers. Everyone at university thought it was strange he wasn’t at least engaged let alone single. He’d made himself a bit of a social outcast with his standards. He cast a shy gaze through his lashes and Snafu cocked his head curiously. “There’s no one like you back in Mobile.”

 

“Someone like me?” Snafu tisked. “Cause the color of my skin?”

 

“Someone so _bold_ ,” Eugene corrected.

 

“Well, Currahee is full of cocksuckers but none of them half as pretty as you, Sledge,” Snafu crooned, stubbing out his cigarette.

 

Eugene squirmed in his seat and leaned forward without thinking. Something about Snafu was a physical pull and he was weak to it’s call. It gave Snafu the opening he needed to snatch up the other’s hand and raise it up to inspect. Eugene half expected the contact to be a shock but it was a rough caress, akin to a kiss, and it sent pleasant tingles up his arm.

 

“Pretty and soft,” Snafu murmured as he turned over his hand, thumbing along his palm. “These are the hands of a real Southern Belle, if I say so myself. Like silk and butter.”

 

“I-I don’t know if you’re flirting with me or deciding how best to prepare me to eat,” Eugene joked even as heat pooled between his thighs. No one had ever dared to be so forward and he was enraptured.

 

Snafu smirked at him and dragged his hand closer. “Maybe both.”

 

Snafu snapped his teeth at his palm with pure mischief in his eyes and Eugene laughed almost embarrassingly loud, completely tickled.

 

o0o0o0o

 

Eugene tipped generously and Jacky pointedly didn’t needle him about how long their ‘lunch’ had been. He walked with Snafu out to the man’s truck out of the way of the dinner traffic. Snafu lit up a cigarette and only puffed once before offering. Feeling light headed and more free than he had in months, Eugene took a long drag off it.

 

He wondered briefly if Snafu’s chapped lips would taste of nicotine or if a trace of coffee lingered just beyond the seam of them.

 

Snafu looked like he had something to say. Eugene expected the man to avoid his gaze as most did when there was something heavy sitting on their tongue but those eyes dropped for no man. “Think you’ll stick around?”

 

Eugene shrugged a little. “If I’ve got a reason to.”

 

Eugene sucked in a noisy breath as a hand landed on his shoulder. The shove was light but caught him off guard. His feet kicked up dirt and the truck met his back with a hollow _thump_. Snafu’s eyes were depthless and somehow they cut right through all the bullshit, all the foreplay and norms. The dancing around was at an end as he crowded him against the truck. A hand slapped down on either side of him and he was trapped.

 

Eugene had never felt so small, or so important.  

 

“I can give you a reason to stay,” Snafu husked.

 

Eugene’s breath hitched. “Yeah?”

 

Eugene didn’t expect the kiss. If he had he would’ve anticipated a burn, a brand, a sear like his gaze. But this...the tenderness of the touch made him ache. Snafu caged him in like he had a right but his kiss spoke volumes of welling affection. Eugene felt fragile beneath those lips and he wanted to yield, to give completely, just to see what Snafu would do with him.

 

But it was only a taste and much too soon Snafu broke the kiss.

 

“Okay,” Eugene breathed, swallowing thickly around new desire. “I’ll stick around.”

 

Snafu brushed their noses and he felt his heart flutter. “Good.”


End file.
